


Love in My Arms and the Sun in My Eyes

by Marlon



Series: Storm Passes Away [5]
Category: Brooklyn (2015), Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Established Relationship, Happy Relationships, Holiday, M/M, Romance, Sea Voyage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2018-12-15 07:35:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11801427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marlon/pseuds/Marlon
Summary: With Ben finally home for good, everything is right in Jim's world. One day, a mysterious letter arrives from Manhattan, calling them both to America.





	1. Chapter 1

Ben had left the curtains parted in such a way that a buttery warm beam of sunlight spills through the heavy fabric, pools on the floor, and melts across Jim’s face. Jim groans as he curls away from the light, burying his face in Ben’s pillow. The sheets are cool on Ben’s side of the bed so Jim tugs the blankets up around his shoulders to ward off the persistent chill in the air. He rubs his cheek against the smooth cotton of Ben’s pillow, breathing in the comforting, lingering scent of bergamot and cloves.

Rolling over, Jim drags the blankets with him. He gazes up at the cracked and fading plaster of the ceiling. Burrowing down into the mound of blankets, thoroughly cocooning himself, he sighs - he dislikes waking up alone, but sometimes it can’t be helped. Mornings with Ben are usually filled with lazy, luxurious kisses in bed, hands caressing down backs, then curving over hips. Often those clever hands will slide lower and lower and fingertips will sketch delicate circles over sensitive skin, pressing and gliding, slick and heavenly, until legs were twining around hips, backs were arching and bowing, and mouths were gasping and begging to be devoured.

Jim curls his toes and shivers at the fantasy. He kicks off the blankets; a little gust of warm, humid air releases more of Ben’s bergamot and the earthy scent of their lovemaking. He arches his back a little, luxuriating in the remembrance of their early morning activities. Curling onto his side again, he gathers Ben’s pillow to his chest and pulls his knees up. Hugging the memory closer, Jim lolls about in the warm bed for longer than he would normally do on a weekday morning. 

A shadow flutters beyond the window, capturing his attention and he turns to look. As he lifts his head, he catches sight of the rosy lovebite Ben had bestowed on his hip hours ago. He sweeps his hand over his hip, pressing his thumb to the bruise. He bites his lip at the sharp little sting. Rubbing his thumb in circles, he smoothes his hand over his backside, down his thigh to rest in between his knees. Ben is always so careful with him. Careful to not leave him looking like he’s been thoroughly tumbled - even though he has been - on days when he has to be at the bar all day. The small lovemark is barely anything more than a hectic pink spot on his pale hip, but still, he knows it’s there - Ben knows it’s there - a delicious little secret that the two of them alone share.

He rolls over onto his belly and feels blindly around the bedside table, looking for Anakin’s pocket watch. His fingertips brush up against the cool metal links of the chain and he carefully tugs it across the table to scoop it up into his hand. He traces his fingers lovingly over the intricate etchings on the casing before flipping the watch open and squinting at the time. Eight in the morning. Ben had left early today.

He closes the cover piece of the watch with a neat, precise click and turns it over to read the inscription for the hundredth time. _To Anakin, all my love, Padme_. He smiles at the sentiment. Maybe he should get Ben a new pocket watch, since he had gifted this one to Jim. It could have an engraving that was special to them - maybe the date they met, or perhaps the date that Ben came home to him for good.

Placing the watch back on the table, Jim makes sure it’s secure before turning over onto his back. He tucks one arm behind his head and lets the other trace idle circles over his chest and down to his belly. His hand stills momentarily. Ben’s school had a break coming up, so maybe they would have time to go on a short holiday. His fingers resume sketching slow, soft circles across his belly and hip. Maybe he could take Ben to visit the Cliffs of Moher - Ben would love it there. They could go up on Friday, stay in Limerick at some cozy inn that overlooks the river. Preferably, the inn would have rooms with large beds, a lovely claw-footed bathtub that is large enough for the two of them, and a great deal of privacy.

Jim sighs at the pleasant daydream. Sinking further into his reverie, he relaxes into the mattress. He imagines he would draw a soothing, warm bath for them upon their arrival in Limerick. When Ben was settled, Jim would undress slowly and then sink down into Ben’s lap. He’d try not to groan too loudly when Ben’s hands come up and wrap around his hips to hold him tightly, steady and secure, just the way Jim liked it. Then he’d unravel the complicated knot that held Ben’s heavy, dark hair back from his sweet face. He’d push his hands into Ben’s beautiful, silky locks and draw Ben up to him until their lips crushed together in a kiss.

Jim’s hand begins to inch between his legs, his knees splaying open slightly, back arching. He bites his lip as he thinks about having Ben all to himself for a weekend, how wonderful that will be. Nothing but the two of them together, caught up in the heat of their kisses and completely entranced with each other.

He gasps as his daydream evaporates in a burst of heavy knocking at the front door. With a groan he sits up and reaches for his green robe hanging off the bed post. He makes his way downstairs on slightly unsteady legs and pulls aside the flowery curtain that keeps out the draughts, then unlocks the door to reveal the postal delivery man. The man hands Jim a bundle of letters, one of which is a large cream envelope that won’t fit through the narrow mail slot, necessitating the knocking.

Jim closes the door with a nod of thanks. He heads for the kitchen, his bare feet sweeping quickly over the chilly oaken floorboards in the hallway. He rifles through the mail on his way, finding the usual collection of bills and invoices for his bar, a letter from Padme, and something from Ben’s school, Vinegar Hill Preparatory. He sets the mail, except the large envelope, down on the kitchen table. He examines the cream envelope closely; the paper is weighty, expensive, lavish in its details.

Flipping it over to read the back, he realizes it’s a letter from Ben’s cousin, Rey. He turns it over again, smiling as he reads Rey’s meticulous, precise script: B. Organa, Rafter Street, Enniscorthy, Co. Wexford. His heart thrills to see Ben’s name written there - Benjamin Organa of County Wexford - it just looks so right, like it was meant to be, like Ben was always meant to be here. He never tires of seeing Ben’s name connected with Enniscorthy, and he knows, right down to his core, that he never will.

He props the letter up against the empty crystal flower vase in the centre of the table where Ben will be sure to see it first. He then moves across the kitchen to the stove where he notices that Ben has laid out his favourite mug and tin of tea. Curiously, there’s a curled-up slip of paper tucked inside Jim’s mug. He plucks it out between two fingers and unfurls it:

Jim,  
Had to go to school early to set up the art fair. See you tonight for dinner.  
B.  
P.S. I took your car.

Jim slips the note into the pocket of his robe. Ben. How colourless his life would be without him, how devoid of love and affection, of beauty. He smiles to himself and sets about preparing his tea to begin the day.

\----

Anakin’s watch had just struck four when Jim hears a rattle at the pub door. The heavy outer door swings open, the hinges creaking ominously, protesting the movement. The door closes like a shot, then Jim hears the long, loping strides that can only belong to one person crossing the main floor of the pub.

Ben announces his presence at the office door with a sharp rap of his knuckles against the frame, but before Jim can even stand to answer it, he bursts in, bringing a gust of fresh spring air with him. He’d shed his suit jacket sometime over the course of the day and he’s rolled his shirt sleeves up to the elbows against the warmth of the early spring. Little curls of his rich, brown hair have escaped from the respectable knot at the crown of his head. The hair curls damply around his face and Jim thinks that the little bit of dishevelment suits him rather well. In fact, he wouldn’t mind rumpling him further.

Ben strides toward him, as if he’s been away for months, rather than just hours, and sits heavily on the edge of his desk, narrowly missing the neat piles of invoices, receipts, and order forms. He leans down to Jim, eyes shining, a soft smile on his lips.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes. How was your day?”

Jim stretches up in his seat toward him, offering his mouth to be kissed. Ben obliges happily and cups Jim’s chin, tipping his face up to presses soft, worshipful kisses on his lips. Jim sighs and sways forward for more, his hands sliding up Ben’s thighs so he can hold tightly as Ben lavishes more kisses to his mouth and finally slips his tongue between Jim’s lips. Ben tastes faintly of coffee and burnt sugar, and Jim groans quietly which allows Ben to press closer.

Once they’ve thoroughly kissed each other hello, Ben begins to sit up but Jim catches him by his collar to hold him close for a bit longer, their foreheads touching. Jim smiles softly up into his face.

“I hate waking up alone but I know it was for a good cause. How was the art fair? I assume it was a rousing success?”

He releases his hold on Ben’s shirt and allows him to sit back. They don’t separate for long though. Ben reaches for him and entwines their hands together in his lap, his thumb stroking rhythmically over the back of Jim’s hand, causing him to shiver with pleasure.

Ben smiles. “It was a huge success. All the kids did a great job; they were so proud to talk about their projects.”

“Wonderful.” Jim raises their joined hands to his mouth and dusts several kisses across Ben’s knuckles. “The school is lucky to have you.”

Ben stands and pulls him up into his arms. “I don’t know about that. I’m just thankful they were willing to take a chance on me.” He dots a dainty kiss to the tip of Jim’s nose. “Are you ready for dinner now?”

Jim nods and disentangles himself from Ben in order to retrieve his burgundy trench coat from its hook by the door. He folds it over his arm and holds the office door open for Ben.

“After you.” He sketches a shallow bow, fighting back a giddy laugh as Ben sweeps by him, affecting the airs of a conquering general or royalty.

They clatter down the short flight of stairs, crossing the pub floor together. Ben unlocks and hauls open the heavy, oak door that leads to the street. He ushers Jim through then relocks the door behind them.

“Do you think the bar will be busy tonight?”

“I shouldn’t think so, it’s only Tuesday. Why?”

Ben had parked the car right out front of the pub. Jim opens the car door and folds himself into the cramped passenger seat. He looks at Ben expectantly.

“Well, I thought I might bring my marking and lesson planning to the pub tonight, keep you company.”

“Oh,” Jim melts a little at the sentiment, “that would be nice--”

He yelps the last word as Ben peals away from the kerb. He grips the dashboard tightly as Ben zips the small car expertly through the narrow streets, winging his way toward their house.

“Ben! You’ve really got to get the hang of driving here!”

Ben bring the car to a tidy stop in front of the house and grins over at Jim.

“You know I’d never put you in harm's way.”

“Just drive slower, Good Lord!”

Jim climbs out of the car on wobbly legs and follows a chuckling Ben up the gravel path to the front door.

“Oh, couple of letters came for you today. One from New York.”

Ben’s face clouds over in an unreadable expression, but, in an instant, the dark look clears and his usual good humour returns.

“Hmm, curious.” He closes the door behind them and slips his hand into Jim’s as he lets Jim lead him to the kitchen where the letters await.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The contents of the mysterious letter from New York are revealed and Jim and Ben make some decisions.

Jim shivers. The blankets had slipped down to bunch around his hips sometime during the night and the chill in the air rouses him from his sleep. He reaches out for Ben, seeking the warmth of his body and the comfort of his arms. His hand sweeps over the bedding that still holds some lingering warmth from Ben’s body - but Ben was nowhere to be found. Jim shuffles into a sitting position against the headboard of the bed, rubbing the sleep from his tired eyes.

“Ben?” He sweeps his hair out of his eyes and peers owlishly around the darkened room.

“Over here.” Ben’s raspy whisper emanates from the direction of the window bench.

Jim kicks aside the blankets and slides off the bed to join Ben at the window. Ben has pulled aside the drapes from the windows and is curled up on the window bench, legs pulled up to his chest, arms loops around his knees. He’s leaning against the foggy window looking out over the fields behind the house. The moon is high and bright in the night sky, drenching the fields and gardens in pale, clear light. Ben himself is gilded silver and his dark hair and eyes gleam in the light as he turns and smiles at Jim.

“Can’t sleep?” Jim perches beside Ben, taking care not to let his bare skin touch the chilly glass of the window. He reaches over to tuck Ben’s hair behind his ears, getting it off his face so he can gauge Ben’s expression. Ben catches his hand and brings it, palm up, to his mouth, and presses an ardent kiss to the tender skin there. Jim exhaled sharply, a quiet whine escaping his lips. Ben nuzzles a smile into Jim’s palm then twines their fingers together and lowers their joined hands to his knees.

“I was just thinking about Rey’s wedding invitation.”

“I suspected as much.” Jim tries to wriggle closer but the window bench is too confined a space. He contents himself with snuggling as close as he can. He strokes his free hand up Ben’s arm, rubbing some warmth back into his chilly skin. “How do you feel about it? Possibly going back to Manhattan, I mean.”

Ben releases his hand. Reaching up he sketches a star into the fogged-up window, then he adds the initials “J” and “F” and finishes with a little heart. He peaks at Jim out of the corner of his eye and grins playfully. Jim huffs a quiet laugh, something about the lateness of the hour inspiring a quietness about him, and he leans closer to Ben.

“Of course I want to go to Rey’s wedding but I’m not thrilled with the idea of going back to Manhattan so soon.” He readjusts his position on the bench, dropping his feet heavily to the floor, and sliding smoothly over to sit close to him. Ben’s hot thigh presses down the length of his, sending small sparks skittering over his skin. Ben sighs and leans into Jim’s shoulder, then after a heartbeat presses his face into the hollow of his neck. When Ben speaks, the little puffs of breath tickle over Jim’s skin and he shivers. “I had hoped for a bit of distance between myself and New York, for awhile yet.”

Jim buries his face in Ben’s tousled hair. There is a slight chill in the room; spring nights are still biting in Enniscorthy, and although Ben’s hair is cool to the touch, it still holds the warm scents of the sunshine and blooming flowers from earlier in the day. He rubs his cheek against the soft locks and brushes a kiss to Ben’s forehead.

“Well, if you stayed home, you’d regret missing Rey’s wedding. Wouldn’t you?”

“Yeah,” Ben sighs, “I’d regret it. I want to be there for her.” He nuzzles closer to Jim, brushing soft, barely-there kisses to his jaw and cheek as he works his way towards Jim’s mouth. Jim cups Ben’s face. He gazes at him, the pad of his thumb grazing gently over his flushed cheek, taking in Ben’s anxiety and worry. He pulls Ben in and kisses him firmly, pressing all his love into the one kiss.

“You should go, then. Stay as long as is polite and then hurry home to me.”

Ben pulls back, eyebrows drawn tight, a faint frown on his face. “Oh, no. I promised myself we’d never be separated again, not after the last time. I couldn't bear it again. Rey invited both of us so-” he reaches for Jim’s hand and brings it to his lips for a kiss- “will you come with me?”

“Oh, Ben, I’d like that, very much. But-” He pauses to press another soft kiss to Ben’s lips- “are you sure it'll be okay? Rey’s fine with my coming with you?”

“You should read her note again.”

Ben retrieves the wedding invitation from the bureau and returns to Jim’s side. Before he can sit, however, Jim snags his hand and pulls him down into his lap instead. Ben’s face, ornamented by the silver moonlight, is soft and open. He sinks down happily into Jim’s lap, knees folded on either side of his hips. Jim skates his fingertips down Ben’s back and settles his hands on his waist, steadying him. Ben opens the envelope and unfolds Rey’s note. He holds it out for Jim to take, then settles himself more firmly in his lap, sighing happily. Jim re-reads the note, filled with Rey’s tidy, precise script:

Dear Benny,

I can’t believe you up and moved away to Ireland and left me here in Manhattan all by myself! I know it’s a lot to ask of you, but I would love to have you here for the wedding. Please know that the invitation extends to your Jim as well, and Finn and I are looking forward to meeting him. Wire and tell me you’re all coming. If not, I shall be forced to book passage on the very next sailing and come to Enniscorthy myself.

All my love,  
Rey

“She called me ‘your Jim’.” He looks up into Ben’s smiling face. “That’s so nice”

“She did.” Ben laughs, delighted with the delicate flush dancing across Jim’s cheeks. “I suspect that if I turn up in Manhattan without you, she’ll send me right back on the very next boat to fetch you.”

“Well, it seems there’s nothing to be done about it, then.” Jim wraps his arms around Ben, pressing the letter into his back as he pulls him closer. He presses a kiss to Ben’s chest then swipes his tongue over his nipple, pressing his teeth to the delicate skin the barest amount. Ben gasps slightly and arches into Jim’s touch.

“Jim,” he whispers, breathless, “will you accompany me to New York to attend the wedding of the century?”

Jim smiles around Ben’s nipple. He pulls off with a final flick of his tongue at the rosy skin. “I’d be delighted, Ben. I can’t wait.”

“Ah, good.” Ben groans and presses closer, rolling his hips slightly. “Now take me back to bed, please.”

Jim helps Ben slide back and off his lap. Standing, he takes Ben’s hand, leaving the slightly crumpled letter on the window bench, and leads him back to their bed. Tumbling back into the still-warm bed, Jim pulls the blankets over them. Their legs wrap around each other, hands tangle in hair, and their lips meet as the sun begins to break through the trees and light the room around them.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s just gone half six in the morning when Jim tiptoes down the creaky, uneven stairs of the Rahilly Inn, Ben following quietly in his wake, they don’t want to wake the other hotel guests.
> 
> \----
> 
> Jim and Ben are nearly ready to depart Cobh for Manhattan. First though, they're going to have a day to themselves.

It’s just gone half six in the morning when Jim tiptoes down the creaky, uneven stairs of the Rahilly Inn, Ben following quietly in his wake, they don’t want to wake the other hotel guests. They were due to depart Cobh for New York the following morning, but today, today was a day just for themselves, before the frantic rush to board the ship and the crush of passengers made it impossible to be truly alone.

They round the corner, crossing the sparsely furnished lobby to the front desk where an impeccably dressed older woman is making some notes in a large ledger book, dark-rimmed spectacles perched on the tip of her nose, and a cup of fragrant coffee beside her on the desk. She looks up at their footfalls and smiles a greeting.

“Hello Mr. Farrell. Mr. Organa.” She removes her glasses and lets them hang by a silver and pearl chain around her neck. “You’ll be wanting the car, then?”

Jim nods. “Yes, Mrs. O’Connell, if it isn’t too much of an imposition to borrow it for the morning?”

“It’s no trouble at all, Mr. Farrell.” She reaches down below the high desk and pulls her handbag up onto the counter. She fishes out a set of car keys and hands them over with a smile. “We don’t need the car until the evening so you’re welcome to it.”

Jim accepts the keys and slips them into his pocket. “I thought I would show my friend around a bit before we leave tomorrow. Perhaps we’d drive toward Cork, maybe even a little further?”

He nods to Ben, a warm smile on his face. Ben beams at him and favours him with a quick wink before leaning forward, his arms crossed on the polished wood counter.

“Jim mentioned there was a stone circle in the area?” He looks so hopeful and interested, with his soft brown eyes wide, fine eyebrows furrowed in question, that Jim stifles a quiet laugh behind his hand. Luckily, Mrs. O’Connell is too charmed by Ben to notice.

“Well, Drombeg Circle is on the other side of Cork, but it’s not to be missed.”

“That’s the one.” Ben pushes off from the counter and slips a hand under Jim’s elbow to guide him toward the door. “Thank you, Mrs. O’Connell, we’ll have the car back this afternoon.”

She waves them on their way with a smile and, slipping her glasses on, turns back to her ledger and coffee.

Ben’s hand migrates from Jim’s elbow to the small of his back as they push through the door to exit the hotel through the ivy-covered archway that makes up the hotel’s entrance. Jim leans briefly into the warmth of Ben’s side as they cross the cobblestone courtyard to the outbuilding that holds Mrs. O’Connell’s white Ford Anglia. He shakes his head, snatching the keys away, as Ben makes a half-hearted swipe at them. 

“Not a chance, Ben, I’m driving today.”

Jim unlocks the car and they fold themselves into the bucket seats. His eyes flit down to the pout on Ben’s lips, and he’s struck with an intense longing to kiss the little moue of disappointment off his face. Knowing they can’t be that indiscreet, he promises himself to make it up to Ben in a more private setting. Dragging his gaze away from Ben’s mouth and up to his eyes, he notices that Ben has been observing him, a smug look on his face.

“You’re thinking about kissing me, aren’t you?”

“Ben! Good Lord.”

A rush of warmth flares up in his cheeks as Ben grins delightedly.

“I know that look, Jim Farrell; you can’t fool me.”

“Yes, well,” Jim mutters, flustered. He pulls a slip of paper from his trouser pocket and pushes it into Ben’s hand. “Here are the directions. Make yourself useful and help me navigate.”

Ben smooths the paper out on his knee. “Oh, I’ll make myself useful alright,” he mutters under his breath, his smile growing wider the more Jim blushes.

When Ben waggles his eyebrows at Jim in a playfully bawdy way, Jim bursts out laughing. He scrubs at his cheeks, attempting to get the hectic blush to fade.

“God, I love it when you blush. You look very biteable.”

Jim smiles as he adjusts the rearview mirror. “Alright, settle down.”

He affects a stern tone, one that he’s heard Ben use with his students, but he can’t keep up the facade for long. Jim smiles again when Ben chuckles, delighted at his attempt to come across as strict and exacting. Jim starts the car and, as it purrs to life, he looks over at the directions on Ben’s knee with a raised eyebrow. Ben’s eyes glint merrily in the morning sun, his full bottom lip caught between his teeth as he consults the neatly written directions. He points toward the gates of the hotel courtyard to the narrow road that snakes along the banks of the River Lee.

“Thataway.”

\----

An hour and a half later, Jim guides the car off the two-lane road and rolls to a stop in the grass. He gets out of the car and arches into a deep stretch. Sighing in satisfaction, he closes the door and comes around the car to lean against the bonnet. Ben joins him an instant later, the car dipping forward as he sits. He lays his hand, palm up, in open invitation on his knee. Jim slips his hand into his, giving it a little squeeze, and leans into his solid, comforting side.

Jim’s eyes trace the course of the road as it winds its way through the rolling green fields. Here and there, the green-brown of the fields were criss-crossed by hedges or stone fences. Further in the distance, the rolling gray ocean churns and roars, the sun glittering off the whitecaps as they break upon the beach. High above them, a few seabirds wheel lazily on a warm updraft, circling higher and higher in the wide, blue sky marbled with clouds.

He tips his face up toward the sun and breathes in the earthy scent of the freshly tilled field off to their right. Brief hints of bergamot and cloves, and above all, the tangy, briny scent of the ocean float up the hills toward them by the wind. 

“It sure is beautiful here.”

Jim leans his forehead against Ben’s shoulder, letting his eyes drift closed. He smiles.

“It is,” he agrees. “We’ll have to come back later in the summer. Once we’re home from New York.”

Ben nuzzles his hair then slips his fingertips beneath Jim’s chin to tilt his face up. Jim blinks his eyes sleepily open to gaze up into Ben’s smiling face. His breath catches in his throat - even now, after all this time, Ben’s unusual beauty still astounds him. The wind whips loose strands of his heavy dark hair out of the gathered knot at the crown of his head; his warm brown eyes crinkle against the glare of the sun. He looks down at Jim with such adoration that Jim is left speechless.

“So,” Ben begins with an air of studied casualness, brushing his thumb over Jim’s lips, “you were thinking about kissing me earlier?”

He cradles Jim’s face in his large, warm hands. Jim leans into Ben’s hand and nuzzles a kiss to his palm.

“As if you don’t know I think of little else.”

He smiled then, hiding his face against Ben’s hands, embarrassed to be so easily caught out. Ben nods seriously, as if Jim’s answer confirms his very thought.

“And what are you going to do about that?” Ben teases, swaying closer.

“Kiss you, I suppose,” Jim replies with an arch of his eyebrow, “but not here in the road. Someone could come along at any moment.”

Above the thundering of the surf and the whistling wind through the flowering hedgerows, they hear the whine of a car engine struggling to ascend the winding road somewhere ahead of them. Ben brushes his thumbs over Jim’s cheeks and then let his hands slowly fall away into his lap.

“Okay, but that’s two kisses, at least, that you owe me.”

“At least,” Jim echoes. “I expect you to collect later, but, for now, let’s go see the stones.” He nods to their left where a path slopes away from the road up the gentle rise of the hill.

He slips his delicate fingers around Ben’s wrist, brushing the pads of them over Ben’s pulse point as he does so. Ben exhales a small, shuddery breath. Jim pushed up off the car, tugging gently on Ben’s hand so that he follows. He releases Ben’s hand with an apologetic smile as they cross the road. Ben places his hand on Jim’s back, between his shoulder blades, as they pick their way through the tall grass along the side of the road and turn onto the gritty, rock-strewn path. He rubs small circles into the slightly damp fabric of Jim’s shirt, the warmth of his hand infusing Jim’s body with a rush of love. He smiles softly at Ben as their shoes kick up puffs of dust as they follow the twisting path up the hill.

They pass through a low, stacked stone fence and enter a clearing where the grass had been flattened by the shoes of previous visitors. The ring of standing stones is a few yards off and Ben lengthens his stride, slinging a grin over his shoulder as he heads toward the stones. Jim stops by the fence to examine its construction. The car they heard earlier finally makes it up the hill and rumbles by them. The driver sounds the horn and waves. Jim shades his eyes with his hand, raising his other hand in acknowledgment. The car rounds the corner and is gone, the sound of the engine already fading on the breeze. Jim watches it go, then turns and follows Ben to the stones.

They spend some time walking around the ring of stones, laughing and teasing each other, and offering guesses as to the function of the standing stones. A temple of some kind, Jim ventured. Perhaps a school or marketplace, Ben countered. A burial ground or huge sundial? When they run out of wild theories on the stones’ purpose, they follow a faint path in the grass toward the ruins of two other structures, once possibly homes, but now only the foundations survived. They follow the path through the ruins toward another large jumble of stones overgrown with tall grass. Red and yellow wildflowers peek out between the tall blades of grass and tumble of stone.

“What do you think this was?”

Jim shakes his head. “I haven’t the faintest idea. Another ruined home, perhaps?”

They turn to look down the clearing, away from the mysterious ruins, back towards the stone circle, to their car, and the fields beyond. Ben presses into Jim’s side and he sighs quietly, contentedly. Jim’s fingers find Ben’s and they lace their hands together as Ben presses kisses to his hair.

“Come with me.”

Ben tugs at their joined hands, leading him away from the stone circle and through a break in the hedges. They come upon another field where they are hidden from the road but still have a view down the hill to the water. Ben takes off his jacket and spreads it out over the grass. He folds himself down upon it, pulling Jim with him.

Jim happily follows him down to the grass, and collapses back to face the sky. One hand is tucked behind his head, the other resting lightly on his belly. Ben leans down on one elbow and glazes out over the fields, the warm breeze tousling the loose strands of his hair.

They lay silent beside each other, content to simply exist in each other’s presence and listen to the chatter of songbirds singing concealed in the hedges and the constant roll of the surf below them. Eventually, Ben breaks the silence.

“Jim,” Ben says, turning to look down at him, “I think I’ll collect my kisses now. Please and thank you.”

“Of course. I have been remiss, haven’t I?”

Jim sits up and grips Ben’s charcoal gray tie to pull him closer. He pressed a prim kiss to his forehead and another to the tip of his nose. He lets the tie slowly slide from between his fingers as he moves to lay down again but Ben’s disappointed pout causes him to pull him down with a quiet chuckle. Jim tangles his fingers in Ben’s dark hair. He urges him closer so he can press a firm kiss to his mouth. Ben slips his arms under Jim’s shoulders to press him close and Jim breaks the kiss to nip at Ben’s lips before darting up to kiss him hungrily.

Ben rolls over, pulling Jim on top of him. They exchange long, languorous kisses, accompanied by quiet moans, and clung to each other, pressing and pulling each other closer. Jim leans back, breathless, and nuzzles delicate, chaste kisses to Ben’s mouth as they catch their breath. He allows Ben to tip him over onto his back, his knees falling open in invitation. Ben eagerly fits himself between Jim’s legs and caresses his hand up Jim’s side to twin their hands together. He noses at the warm hollow of Jim’s neck and nuzzles his way along his jaw to nibble and lick at Jim’s lips. Jim groans beneath him, desperate to feel Ben’s full weight pinning him to the soft grass. Ben’s free hand cleverly finds its way inside Jim’s shirt and his long fingers skitter over Jim’s chest and tease the soft skin around his nipple before settling his warm hand over it and gently brushing his thumb back and forth over the sensitive skin. He buries his face in Jim’s neck as he arches tightly against him and cries out softly. Jim bites back a louder wail, not so far gone that he forgets where they were.

Later, they lay curled together on Ben’s jacket, languidly kissing in the bright morning light. Jim feathers a row of kisses up Ben’s neck, letting slip a happy groan when Ben cuddles closer. Jim brings their joined hands to his mouth and presses kisses over Ben’s fingertips. Ben sighs with pleasure, a quiet smile lighting up his face.

The sun is high in the sky and the wind has finally died down. Their small meadow is pleasantly warm and secure. Jim doesn’t see how any other people could possibly exist in the world beyond the two of them. He breathes deeply. Exhaling a long breath, he hugs Ben closer. He never imagined he would be this happy in life.

“Ben?”

The hand that has been caressing over the thin poplin fabric of his shirt stills. Ben tips his face up to gaze up into his face, eyes heavy-lidded and a small, sated smile on his face.

“Mm-hmm?”

“Tell me about Manhattan. What’s it like there?”

The hand resumes moving, petting over Jim’s soft belly. He turns his face into Jim’s shoulder and mouths a damp kiss there.

“I don’t know. It’s a big city, like every other,” he mumbles into the fabric of Jim’s shirt. “You’ve been to London and Paris; New York is pretty much the same, except the buildings are a little newer.”

“Maybe so, but those cities didn’t produce Ben Organa, so New York has to be different.”

Ben laughs quietly and rolls over onto his back. Jim follows, propping himself up on his elbow to smile down at Ben. Ben reaches up and caresses the back of his hand over Jim’s flushed cheek.

“It’s a big place - gritty and full of people, and if you don’t watch it, you could lose yourself easily there.”

Jim nodded, eyes wide and waiting, for Ben to continue. Ben draws his hand down his other cheek, down to cup his chin, eyes dancing.

“New York has its charms but they pale in comparison to those of Enniscorthy.”

Jim snorted. “That can’t possibly be true.”

“We’ll be there soon so you can see for yourself, but I prefer our home in Enniscorthy to anywhere _I’ve_ ever been.”

He slips his hand around the nape of Jim’s neck to guide him down for another kiss. He has Jim’s heart racing within seconds, breathless in even less time. Jim follows Ben’s mouth, as Ben releases him after pressing a biting kiss to the curve of his neck, still hungry for more.

“Jim, there’s something I’ve been wanting to mention.” Ben stops and looks up at the downy clouds scudding by on the wind, a lone bird wheeling above them. “I don’t know how to put this delicately, but you haven’t been worrying about running into Eilis, have you?” He looks up at him, his eyes dark and full of concern.

Jim goes quiet for a moment. He gazes down at Ben’s serious face and reaches over to tuck the loose strands of his hair behind his ear.

“I hadn’t really thought of it,” Jim says “I mean, what are the odds that we’d cross paths there? For all I know, she doesn’t even live in Brooklyn anymore.”

Ben’s knitted brows relax into his usual sunny expression. He smiles, relief evident over his face.

“Good.” He strokes Jim’s cheek again. “I won’t let anyone hurt you again and I thought it was better we were prepared rather than pretend it wasn’t a possibility that we may run into her.”

Jim presses Ben’s hand firmly against his cheek and shudders a soft sigh.

“I’m in no danger from her, now. I was hurt at the time but I think I always knew she didn’t love me back. Besides,” he grins down at Ben, “I’ve met someone else and I’ve never been so happy.”

Ben pulls himself up to his elbows with an overly dramatic gasp. “Jim! You’ve met someone else? Who is he?”

Jim ducks his head, laughing. He tips his eyes up to look at Ben from under the fall of his auburn hair. “Oh, maybe you know him. He’s tall, devilishly handsome, too flirtatious for his own good, and not nearly as charming as he thinks he is.”

“I’m exactly as charming as I need to be, Jim. It worked on you didn’t it?”

Jim pushes him over and crawls on top of him again. He presses Ben’s hands into the grass and holds them there as he leans down to capture his mouth in a sweet kiss.

“You’re impossible to resist, Ben Organa.” He sits up and slides the braces off his shoulders, letting them curve over his hips. “Now kiss me again.”

Ben sits up eagerly, his hands skating up Jim’s back to settle at the nape of his neck. “Like I’d ever stop,” he whispers against Jim’s hungry mouth.

“Don’t you dare.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim and Ben are finally on their way to New York. Departing from Cobh stirs up some old memories for both of them but fortunately, new friends and new adventures are waiting to be had in Manhattan.

They’ve come to the railing to wave farewell to the crowds of families and friends that lined the pier. Jim gazes down at the somber, pensive faces of those being left behind as a few quiet sobs float up to him. He swallows around a sudden lump in his throat as the remembrance of his own time on this pier leaps unwanted to his mind.

Ben senses his discomfort and leans his shoulder into his. The small nudge is enough to rouse Jim from his gloomy reflections, and he offers Ben a watery smile, nudging him back. Ben dashes a surreptitious wink in Jim’s direction, a small smile curling the corner of his mouth. Jim narrows his eyes at the curl, making plans to press several kisses there once they’re back in their rooms.

A blast from the ship’s horns announces that their departure is imminent. Jim tears his eyes away from Ben’s irresistible smile to watch the action on the pier as the crew prepare to cast off. They stay pressed shoulder to shoulder, watching Cobh and the coast of Ireland fade into the horizon. 

As the ship makes its ponderous way out of the harbour, Ben turns his attention to the stone buildings of the town and the verdant fields layered behind. The hills roll away and away from the town until eventually the line between field and sky is a blue-green blur. 

When they are far enough out, the town becomes an indistinct brown smudge against the landscape. The seabirds that had followed the ship out into the ocean have begun to fall back and wheel away towards the land. Most of the passengers have drifted away from the railings, going to claim their rooms and settle in for the many-days’ journey to New York.

Ben has yet to tear his eyes away from the shore. A tiny crease forms in between his brows, his full bottom lip snagging between his teeth, bitten rosy and red. Jim casts a cautious glance around, and, seeing that they are the only ones lingering on deck, slips his hand over Ben’s and brushes his thumb softly over his knuckles. The vice-like grip Ben has on the railing loosens, some of the tension ebbing from his shoulders. He exhales quietly and darts a melancholy look to Jim out of the corner of his eye.

“This isn’t like the last time, Ben; we’ll be home before you know it.”

Ben nods and sighs. “I know, I just didn’t think I’d miss it so much already.” He leans over to press his forehead briefly against Jim’s and sighs again, shoulders slumping. “And I can’t help but think of the last time we were here. After this trip, can we promise to never come to Cobh again?”

Jim chokes out a quiet laugh, unexpectedly caught up in Ben’s memories of the past. “Absolutely. Never again.”

He tugs Ben’s hand from the railing and presses his thumbs into his palm, massaging the tension away. He releases Ben’s hand with one final squeeze and tugs his coat tighter around himself to shield against the biting wind.

“Come along, let’s go settle into our room.”

Ben tucks some of Jim’s windblown hair behind his ear. He drops his hand to his shoulder and squeezes briefly, then, with a final glance back towards the land, hardly visible now in the hazy shimmer of the horizon, he nods to Jim.

“Alright, let’s go.”

Jim allows Ben to turn him toward the door, the hand sliding down his back sending little ripples of pleasure down to Jim’s toes.

“We can always go to the dining hall for a bite to eat.”

He chuckles as Ben turns an unhealthy shade of green, memories of his first stomach-churning crossing dancing across his face. When they get to the door, he stops Ben with a hand on his chest.

“It’s only a few weeks, Ben, then never again.”

“Never again to America, or to Cobh?”

“Either. Both. Whatever you like.”

He ducks his head and smiles up at Ben from under his bright fall of hair. The remaining traces of worry lift from Ben’s face as his eyes regain their usual mirth.

“Never again without you.”

Ben slips his hand over Jim’s and laces their fingers together. Jim’s mouth curls up in a small half-smile and he nods.

“Deal.”

He squeezes Ben’s hand. Glancing over his shoulder at the empty corridor, he tugs Ben away from the doorway and down the hall. They keep their fingers loosely tangled as they hurry toward their rooms, eager to be alone together again.

\----

R. Skywalker  
New York, NY

Will arrive by Cunard Line Chelsea Pier July 5 about midday. Please await arrival.

B. Organa  
Co. Wexford, Ireland

\----

The _Britannic_ disgorges her first and second class passengers in a chaotic mess at Chelsea Pier. Jim’s first views of the city are hidden as he stumbles down the covered gangway on his unsteady sea legs, lugging his steamer trunk behind him. In the commotion and turmoil of the port, with people hurrying to disembark and luggage and cargo clattering to the dock, no one notices Ben reach back and slip his hand into Jim’s. No one sees the affectionate, reassuring squeeze before he lets go so they can descend the ramp together.

They join the river of people flowing towards the two sets of double doors at the end of the pier. Every time they pass another gangway, Jim cranes his neck to try and catch a glance of the glittering art deco skyscrapers he had merely glimpsed on their way into port. Ben notices him looking and leans down to whisper into his ear with a smile.

“Not much longer now, Jim. Through customs and onto the reception hall and we’re done.

They push through the double doors and enter the milling masses of finely dressed, yet rumpled, passengers from not only their ship but at least two others that have also docked alongside them. The customs area is a large, utilitarian warehouse with rows and rows of tables and weary customs officers in neat navy blue uniforms dutifully checking passports, papers, and luggage. The room is full of idle chatter, crying children, and even the periodic forlorn howls of some passenger's poor pet trapped in a traveling kennel. The bare walls and rafters of the warehouse reverberate the cacophony of noise tenfold. Amid the din, the customs officials call passengers forward accompanied by hoarsely shouted directions from other staff wading amongst the sea of people, trying in vain to direct everyone to the right queue.

Clutching his passport and papers, Jim looks about for the line for visitors. Spying a sign a few tables over that reads “Visitors to New York”, he turns toward Ben and nods with his chin.

“I think we have to go over there.”

Ben agrees and gently places his hand on Jim’s back, guiding him through the crowd. They elbow their way through lines of people waiting in various queues for returning citizens and new immigrants. Ben holds his head high as they pass the Returning Citizens and stands proudly in the line for visitors, daring anyone to question his place in the line. Jim muffles a laugh behind his hand when the harried customs agent at the head of their line raises his eyebrow in askance of Ben’s obviously American accent but Irish passport.

“I moved to Ireland from Manhattan,” Ben excitedly says to the agent. “I live in Enniscorthy, it’s the most beautiful place you’ve ever seen—”

“That’s nice,” the agent drones, barely looking up from his passport. “Line three. Next!”

He shovels Ben’s papers into his hand and waves him in the direction of line three, already reaching for Jim’s passport. Jim laughs at Ben’s rueful expression and shrugs as he moves off to his designated line.

Jim is directed to the table beside Ben so he’s able to watch him out of the corner of his eye while quietly answering all the customs officer’s questions. Yes, he’s here on a holiday, and yes he has a return ticket, for the end of July. He hoists his trunk up onto to battered inspection table and, after a cursory look, the officer snaps his trunk closed, handing him back his papers.

“Through that door, sir. Have a nice stay in New York.”

Jim nods his thanks as he collects his papers. He swiftly flips the locks of the trunk closed and wrestles it off the table. He slings a quick glance at Ben’s table, catching snippets of his earnest conversation as he passes by. He smiles to himself as he hears Ben telling the patient customs officer about the castle in Enniscorthy. The tired officer is clearly only partially listening to him as he pages through his pristine passport and then peers into the open steamer trunk. Jim snags Ben’s eye with a little wave and points toward the doors of the reception hall. Ben waves him forward and flashes a bright smile as he turns his attention back to the agent.

Jim pushes through the polished wooden doors with brass fixtures smeared by hundreds of hands over the course of the day. As he steps into the large, bright reception hall, he’s hit with a wall of humidity that leaves him gasping. He hurries forward to get out of the way of other exiting passengers but he’s still buffeted by people rushing to greet family members and he’s surrounded by the joyful sounds of reunions and happy homecomings.

Moving against the flow of people, he worries briefly if Ben will feel that way when he finally comes through to the reception hall. He had said his cousin and her fiance would be here to greet them - will he feel the elation and joy that the people around him were experiencing? Of course he would, Jim reasons; Ben loves his cousin and he’s here especially for her wedding, after all. But, Jim falters, will the familiar sights and faces make him long for Manhattan again?

No, Jim argues with himself, that’s nonsense. Shaking himself to dispel the old fears from swallowing him whole, he sets his trunk down well away from the crush of people. The centre of the large reception hall is slightly more free of people as they congregate around the doors waiting for passengers. With room to breathe and gather himself some, he tucks his passport away in his trouser pocket. Quickly stripping off his burgundy trench coat, he plucks his shirt away from his sticky skin. Ben had been right, he thought with chagrin; he really didn’t need the jacket in the sweltering New York summer. Still though, it made him feel better to bring it and the jacket had been handy to have while on deck during their crossing.

He folds the jacket over his arm and begins to roll up his shirt sleeves in tidy, precise folds. Sleeves rolled up, he feels somewhat cooler as he swipes his hand across his forehead. He looks back to the constantly moving door - Ben has yet to come through to the reception hall. Jim glances around the busy hall. The room has a high vaulted ceiling with a row of windows along one wall. Most of the windows are propped open, the summer sun glinting off the glass and beating down onto the creamy marble floor. The briny scent of the ocean mixes with the oily exhaust of the ships and the heat rising off the paving of the streets.

Before Jim can sink back into his worried ruminations, he hears someone calling his name. He spins on his heel, sighing with relief as Ben came barreling toward him from the customs hall doors. He cuts an impressive path through the crowds and people scurry to get out of his way as he bears down on Jim.

“That took forever!” Ben calls to him as he approaches. “I thought they’d never let me leave.”

He comes to a halt in front of Jim, dropping his trunk to the floor with a loud clatter. He looks smug as he takes in Jim’s rolled sleeves and folded up jacket.

“I told you it would be hot here.” He reaches up as if to cup Jim’s face in his large hands, but drops them to his collar at the last second. Smoothing and fidgeting with the wilted fabric of his shirt collar, merely as an excuse to lay his hands on Jim, Ben smiles down at him.

“I’m really glad you came with me, Jim. I would have been lost without you.”

He stops fussing with the collar so that he can grip Jim’s narrow shoulders in his large hands, eyes dancing over the frantic blush that spread over Jim’s cheeks at his sweet words. Jim opens his mouth to reply but a rapid tip-tapping of heels speeding towards them distracts him. He glances over Ben’s shoulder to see a tall young woman in a bold black and white striped shirtwaist dress approaching them, her face wreathed in a familiar looking smile. Jim looks back to Ben.

“I think your cousin found us.”

Ben whirls around and is nearly knocked off his feet as the woman flings herself into his arms, laughing and sniffling back tears. She wraps her arms around his neck and holds on for dear life.

“Benny! I missed you so much, I’m so happy you’re here!”

Ben hugs her close then sets her back on her feet. He sweeps her hand up to his mouth to plant a loud, extravagantly exaggerated kiss on the back of her hand.

“Rey, I missed you too. You get more beautiful every time I see you.”

She smiles through her tears as she holds onto his hand tightly. Jim notices that not only do Rey and Ben have a similar smile, they also share the same dark, deeply-expressive eyes. Must be a family trait, he thinks to himself. His attention is pulled away from Ben as a young man hurries over to them. He has a warm, happy smile, and his eyes gleam when Rey turns to pull him closer.

“Rey, you sure can move when you want to.” The young man grins at her as he holds his hand out to Ben. “Benny, great to see you again. Thanks for coming all this way just for us.”

Ben shakes the man’s hand enthusiastically, clapping him on the back. “Finn, I wouldn’t miss it for the world, you know that.” He slips an arm around Jim’s shoulders to urge him forward. “Rey. Finn. This is my good friend Jim Farrell of Enniscorthy.” His grip tightens on Jim’s shoulders, reassuring and grounding. “Jim, this is my cousin Rey, and her fiance Finn; we grew up together, the three of us.”

Jim, nervous to meet Ben’s family now that he’s actually face to face with them, furtively rubs his clammy palms on his trousers before offering his hand. A fine tremor ripples through him.

“It’s a great pleasure to meet you both.”

Rey steps forward confidently. Bypassing his hand, she rises up on her toes to enfold him in a welcoming embrace. She presses a dainty kiss to his cheek.

“Welcome to the family.” She whispers conspiratorially into his ear, delight evident in her eyes as she lowers herself back to her feet. He nods, surprised but deeply touched by her words. 

Finn grasps Jim’s hand and pumps it enthusiastically.

“Nice to meet you, Jim. How was the crossing?”

“Oh,” his gaze flickers to Ben, cheeks flushing slightly, then back to Finn, “it was an easy crossing. The weather was very fine.”

“Thank goodness for small mercies, I suppose,” Finn replies cheerfully as he holds his arm out to Rey, “shall we go then? You must both be tired.”

They both nod. As they gather up their steamer trunks, Jim realizes how exhausted he really is. The roiling ocean crossing didn’t lend itself to the most restful of nights. And although their first-class rooms were more comfortable than the cramped and crowded rooms of third-class, it had been difficult to rest easy in Ben’s arms at night.

Rey casts an attentive eye over their drawn faces, noting Ben’s wan face and Jim’s tired eyes. She slips her hand into the crook of Finn’s elbow and waves over a porter with a luggage trolley.

“We should. It’s getting late, they need a decent sleep, and you have your final suit fitting this afternoon.” 

Ben helps the porter load their trunks onto the trolley and then, porter in tow, they make their way through the crowded reception hall towards the exit. Rey and Finn stop at the taxi queue outside the terminal and yet another porter waves a car forward for them.

Finn holds the door open for Rey. When she’s seated, he turns to Ben and Jim.

“Are you staying with Han and Leia at Washington Square?”

Ben shifts guiltily in place, his eyes darting to Jim and then back to Rey.

“No ...” He drags out the vowel sound in a long breath. “We have rooms at the Abington Park Hotel.”

“Benny! Are you serious?” Rey leans out of the cab to fix him with a stern glance. “What about Leia and Han?”

“I’ll go see them tomorrow,” Ben huffs and crosses his arms. “They don’t have enough room anyway, what with Finn’s aunt and uncle staying with them, not to mention Uncle Lando and Uncle Chewie.”

Jim’s eyebrows inch upwards into his hair as Ben continues to list the many relatives and friends staying with his parents.

“Uncle Chewie?” he mouths to himself, unable to even envision the sort of person that fits this moniker. Finn catches his eye, grinning.

“It’s not as bad as all that,” Finn says. “The family is really nice once you get to know them. The real trick is remembering all the names and nicknames, I don’t think any of them call each other by their given names.”

“Good Lord.” Jim whispers faintly as Finn grins again and, seemingly unconcerned about Rey and Ben’s loud conversation, tips the porter and skirts around the back of the car to take a seat beside Rey.

“Jim!” Rey calls to him, having extracted a promise from Ben that he’ll talk things over with his parents tomorrow, pats the seat beside her, “come and sit right here by me, tell me all about Enniscorthy. Benny mentioned you run a pub?”

Ben holds the door open for him. He’s wearing a mulish expression on his face but he nevertheless winks at Jim as he takes a deep breath and slides into the seat beside Rey. Ben follows closely, hauling the heavy car door shut behind him. He turns to give directions to the driver. Swinging back around to face Jim, he nudges the toe of his brown and white oxford against Jim’s ankle. Jim smiles, relaxing against the slightly worn black leather of the taxi seat, as he continues to tell Rey and Finn about his bar. Ben breathes a happy little sigh and leans his head back against the seat, watching the city whisk by the windows as Jim’s soft voice fills the car with tales of their life in Enniscorthy.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now in New York, Jim gets to see all the places Ben knew growing up. New York is nothing like Jim has seen before.And Ben has to go see his parents for the first time since moving to Enniscorthy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song that Jim sings is a bit from Big Parade by The Lumineers.

Jim wakes early the next morning, to some very insistent kisses along his neck and jawline. He smiles as his eyes flutter open and he rolls to fit himself snugly along the lines of Ben’s body. 

“Morning.” He whispers drowsily against Ben’s warm, dry lips.

Ben hums in response and brushes a feather-light kiss to his forehead. They sleepily nuzzle each other, pressing soft, sweet kisses to cheeks and lips, murmuring quiet words of endearment. Jim arches to press himself tighter to Ben’s body as Ben’s large, warm hands smooth down the curve of his back. Ben’s roving hands settle on Jim’s hips and he tugs him closer. With a groan, Ben rolls them over so that Jim is settled comfortably atop Ben’s hips. Jim leans down for a kiss, eyes drifting closed as Ben’s hands slip lower to pet and knead his backside.

Ben’s stomach chooses this moment to grumble loudly. Jim buries his face in Ben’s neck and giggles.

“I guess it’s time for breakfast?”

“No,” Ben moans, dragging out the word as he chased Jim’s lips, “just a few more kisses.”

Jim dives forward to press another kiss to Ben’s smiling mouth. They nip and press hungry, breathless kisses to one another’s lips, losing themselves in each other. Ben’s hands cup the narrow curves of Jim’s backside and he urges him forward, tentatively encouraging Jim to rock against him. Jim presses himself back into Ben’s hands and sighs. He buries his hands in Ben’s thick dark hair to angle his head so that he can better bestow attention on Ben’s ear. He runs his tongue around the shell of Ben’s endearingly large ear and flicks the lobe gently, nipping at it with his teeth.

Ben’s pleasured groan is cut off by another rumble of his stomach. His head thumps back on the pillow as Jim releases him in order to sit up, a grin lighting up his face. A faint blush blossoms across Ben’s cheeks.

“Stop smiling.”

Jim huffs a laugh and gazes fondly down at him. “I can’t help it,” he grazes his fingertips down Ben’s neck and chest, “everything you do is utterly charming, even your rumbly stomach.”

He shuffles back only far enough that Ben can sit up. As soon as Ben’s upright, Jim is nestling closer again, his hands automatically sliding around Ben’s shoulders. Ben loops his arms around Jim’s waist and tilts his face up for a kiss, which Jim happily bestows.

“I think it’s time for breakfast, we haven’t had a proper meal since we left Cobh.” He sighs into Jim’s kiss. “May I take you out for breakfast? There’s a place nearby that I think you’ll love.”

“I’d like that.”

Jim moves off Ben’s lap so they can both swing their legs over the side of the bed. A narrow sliver of bright sunlight gleams through the gap in the drapes over the window, suggesting that a fine sunny day is in the making. The room is already warm with the early morning sun.

Ben stands, pulling Jim with him. They set about gathering their wilted traveling clothes from the day before, tossed haphazardly around the room in their haste to revel in each other’s nakedness. Ben pulls on his crumpled trousers and helps Jim untangle his braces.

“Go get some fresh clothes and we’ll go.”

Jim nods his agreement and leans in for a parting kiss.

“I’ll meet you in the lobby?”

Ben lets him go, his fingers trailing down Jim’s arm to his hand where he holds tightly for a fraction of a second before letting go. Jim slips quietly out the door, mouthing a quiet “I love you” as the door gently swings shut behind him.

\----

After a hearty breakfast where they each consumed plates piled high with eggs, hash browns, sourdough toast, tomatoes, and all washed down with countless cups of coffee and tea, Ben leads Jim on a short tour of the neighbourhood.

They walk down shady tree-lined streets where Ben points out various places of interest from his youth. Here was the diner that Han had taken him for milkshakes to celebrate his first day of school; this was the corner where Rey had crashed her bike when she was five and scraped her knee, where Ben had wrapped her injury in too many bandages and they walked their bikes home together; around the corner was the barber shop that Ben, his father, and his uncle had all frequented when he was young. The red, blue, and white barber’s pole still spins merrily on the corner of the building. 

Ben eventually loops them back around to the pretty park in front of their hotel.

“Will you be okay for an hour or two while I go see Leia and Han?” Ben looks concerned. “I hate to leave you.”

“I’ll be fine,” Jim confirms as he studies Ben’s face, “will you be okay though?”

“Well,” Ben hums as he scrubs a nervous hand through his hair, “we left things a bit strained when I left for Ireland, but I think for Rey’s sake, we can just put it all behind us.”

Jim squeezes his elbow reassuringly. “I’m sure you will, Ben, it’ll be fine. You’ll see.” He slides his hand up to squeeze Ben’s bicep, trying to convey his support with the gesture. “Are you sure you want to go alone?”

Ben nods. “Just for this first visit anyway. Things should be easier the next time.”

“Alright, get along with you then. See you after?” Jim gives Ben’s arm a little shake.

“Of course.” Ben reaches up to gently rest his hand on Jim’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “Make sure you don’t stay outside too long this afternoon, it’s going to be a hot day.”

Jim promises he’ll be mindful of the sun and thus reassured, Ben murmurs his farewell, and with a lingering look, he turns to stride off down Bleecker Street.

Watching him go with a sigh, Jim slips his hands into his trouser pockets, trying to not fret about Ben and simultaneously contemplating how to occupy his time this afternoon. He remembers seeing a bakery nearby, not that he’s hungry in the slightest, this morning’s feast saw to that, but Ben might appreciate a little treat when he comes back from the stressful visit with his family. Not wanting to stray too far from the area around their hotel and the small park in front, Jim heads off down the street in search of the bakery.

\----

Brady’s Bakery turns out to be a little bit of Ireland in Manhattan. The pale blue storefront with its cream and brown awning is inviting, beckoning him from across the street. Once he opens the glass door and enters the tiny shop, the pristine glass cases lined with familiar breads and confections and the scent of yeast, raisins, and sugar permeating the air, make him long for home.

He’s come away with a blue bakery box, adorned with a velvety brown ribbon, filled to the top with scones, shortbread cookies, and a small loaf of Porter cake. He’s also purchased a round, warm loaf of soda bread, Ben’s favourite, and it’s tightly wrapped in brown parchment paper.

Retracing his steps to their hotel, Jim deposits his treats on the small writing desk in his room. He unlocks his trunk and carefully takes out his fiddle case, then returns to the leafy green park across the street from the hotel. The sun is high in the sky; the afternoon is as warm as Ben had promised, so Jim takes a seat at a vacant stone bench in a shady section of the park.

He sits quietly in the cool shade, enjoying the small break from the relentless sun. Somewhere behind him, children shriek and laugh as they play away the afternoon. Traffic rumbles along the narrow street on the other side of the wrought-iron fence. So far Ben’s little corner of Manhattan has been pleasant. The pretty tree-lined streets with their tall red-brick townhouses seem at once exotic yet familiar.

A gentle breeze ruffles the damp hair at the nape of his neck so he tugs the top button of his collar open so he can better feel the cool air. Turning to his fiddle, he unlocks the clasps of the case and carefully takes out the instrument. He tucks it under his chin, listening intently as he tunes it. Luckily, it seems to have borne the journey to New York easily, the humidity hasn’t affected it too badly. He adjusts the tuning pegs and plucks at the strings again. Satisfied, he rosins up the bow. He plays the first few bars of a reel then stops to adjust the tuning pegs again. He finishes the reel and slides smoothly into one of his own compositions.

The afternoon air is humid, heavy, causing everyone, save for the children at play, to move sluggishly. The sultry day doesn't seem to call for a lively reel or jig. As Jim brings his own composition to a close, he slips effortlessly into a sweet, slow ballad from County Wexford. The visit to the bakery with its unexpected treasure trove of Irish treats has made him long for home. He lets his eyes sink mostly closed as he plays on, the cool breeze ruffling his hair and clothing, the bustle of the city fading away, until he was left with only the sounds of his fiddle, the drone of unseen bees flitting through the rose bushes behind him, and he can almost imagine that he’s in his garden at home, Ben at his side.

The low whine of the rusting iron gate swinging open, then clattering shut, draws his attention. Jim’s eyes blink open and he spies Ben making his way toward him along the cobblestone path that weaves its way around the linden trees and flowering bushes. Jim continues to play as he watches Ben’s approach - Ben looks more at ease than Jim had seen him since they cast off from Cobh. He moves easily, some of the tension has drained away from around his eyes.

Ben stops a few yards from Jim and leans his shoulder against the smooth mottled gray-green bark of a tree, watching Jim play with a faint smile curling up the corners of his mouth. Jim grins in response to Ben’s presence and draws the bow harder against the strings to make the notes really sing out, the tempo of the song picks up. He dances the bow across the strings - quick, quick, slow - and drew a breath.

_Oh my my, oh hey hey_   
_Here he comes, my saving grace_   
_Burn the car and save the plates_   
_He’s arrived, my saving grace._

Jim ends the tune with a flourish, zipping the bow over the strings. Ben pushes himself off the tree, applauding, laughing, a besotted smile blooming on his face. Jim dips his head in pleased acknowledgment then resets the fiddle beneath his chin. As Ben approaches, Jim swings into the gentle, romantic tones of _The Blooming Flower of Grange_ , letting his joy at Ben’s nearness infuse the song with a lightness and tenderness.

Ben’s face lights up as he recognizes the familiar notes of the song. He comes to sit beside Jim on the stone bench, placing an olive green shopping bag down beside him. Jim plays the first two verses of the song then brings the impromptu recital to a close. He draws the bow across the strings in a long plaintive sigh to wring out every bit of sweetness from the final note then lowers the fiddle to his lap.

“Wonderful, Jim.” Ben sighs, reaching out to run his fingers along the silk lining of the fiddle case, “just wonderful. I feel bad that I’ve deprived Enniscorthy of its best musician for the summer.”

Jim chuckled. “Thank you, Ben, it feels good to play.” A faint pleased blush blooming across his cheeks. “I think Enniscorthy will survive without me for a few weeks, though.” He carefully places the golden-yellow fiddle into the case and flips the latches closed. He glances up at Ben as he does so, carefully scrutinizing his face. “And you? How are your parents?”

“Well, you were right, of course, everything’s fine.” Ben shifts closer on the bench, settling the shopping bag into his lap. “Leia’s come around to the idea of my living in Ireland. I think she can see how happy I finally am, but I think Padme might have also written her a letter or two.”

Jim nods, the corner of his mouth curling into a little grin. “That sounds like the Padme I know.”

“Doesn’t it though?” Ben barks a short laugh then sobers, “but to be honest, I was worried. I think, now, that things will be much better going forward.”

Jim brushes his hand down Ben’s arm, fingertips stroking briefly at the delicate skin of his wrist, squeezing once at his hand, before settling his hand back on his knee. “I’m glad.”

They share an easy, quiet moment - letting the ambient noise of the park and streets beyond wash over them. Ben sits up straighter and squares his shoulders. He holds the shopping bag out to Jim.

“Here, I’ve brought you something.”

With a quiet oh of pleased surprise, Jim takes the olive green bag, pushing the white tissue paper aside to draw out a jaunty straw boater. The hat is made of a bright wheat-colour straw with a large stiff brim encircled by a wide navy blue ribbon that has four thin bands of white running through the dark silk. He flips it over to examine the interior of the hat. It’s lined with a rich navy blue silk, stamped with the name and symbol of the milliner - Louis Brothers - in a complimentary gold. He turns the hat over again and rubs his thumb over the bronze hat pin.

“This looks like Enniscorthy Castle,” he smiles up at Ben, “how did you find something that matches so perfectly?”

“So you like it?” Ben inquires. “I had to dig through their supply of pins to find one that would suit you. When I saw the castle I knew I’d found it.”

“Thank you, Ben, it’s perfect.” Jim holds the hat out to Ben. “How do I wear it?”

Ben takes the hat from Jim and sets it gently on the back of his head. The wide brim casts a pleasant shade over his face and neck, shielding his fair skin from the harsh glare of the afternoon sun.

“Like this, on the back of your head.” Ben taps the brim with his knuckle causing the hat to tip forward over Jim’s forehead. “But you can wear it more forward if the wind is up.”

Jim pushes the hat back into place and brushes his hair out of his eyes. “How do I look?”

“Damn fine, and you know it.”

Jim brings his hand up to his mouth to cover his laugh and pleased grin. A ripple of pleasure fizzes up his back into his cheeks, making them flush. Ben waggles his eyebrow at Jim’s sudden blush, grinning impishly. He gathers up the discarded shopping bag and Jim’s fiddle case in one large hand.

“Shall we go up to rest in our rooms for a bit before dinner?” He stands, offering his other hand to Jim. “If you’re out in the sun much longer you’ll develop too many new freckles. I want to kiss and count them all so I’ve really got to get started.”

Jim accepts Ben’s hand and heaves himself to standing. He brushes imaginary dust off his chocolate brown trousers then fixes Ben with a teasing glance, hands on hips. “Your excessive charm has no effect on me, Benjamin Organa.”

He burst out laughing as Ben winks at him shamelessly.

“You can tell yourself that as much as you like, but I can tell you’re already thinking about it.” He leans in to whisper the last words into Jim’s ear.

“ _It?_ ” Jim inquires, breathless.

“Me. Kissing all of your thousand freckles.” He leans back a touch to level a dark-eyed look at Jim. “I’ll start with the adorable little bunch across your nose.”

Jim slips his hand into the crook of Ben’s elbow and urges him toward the gate. “I expect a full account by dinner time then.”

Ben chuckles and leans into Jim’s shoulder as they cross the small park, the late afternoon sun slanting through the trees. “Count on it. I take my job as your freckle admirer very seriously.”

“Good Lord.”

Ben only laughs again as he follows Jim out of the park, across the street to their hotel, and up the granite stairs, with a spring in his step and mischief glinting in his eyes.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning of the wedding dawns sunny and warm, as have all their days in New York. With nowhere to be until the ceremony at three in the afternoon, Jim and Ben choose to have a lazy morning.
> 
> \----
> 
> The big day is here. Rey and Finn's wedding is finally upon them. Jim and Ben take time for themselves.

The morning of the wedding dawns sunny and warm, as have all their days in New York. With nowhere to be until the ceremony at three in the afternoon, Jim and Ben choose to have a lazy morning. Ben’s room may have had the more luxurious bed, but Jim’s room has an extravagant white bathtub that is actually deep enough to fit both of them.

Jim leans forward to run more hot water into the tub. When the water had warmed, he closes the silver tap and nestles back against Ben’s broad chest with a contented sigh. He practically purrs with pleasure as Ben’s arms sweep up out of the water to wrap around his shoulders, holding him close. Lacing their fingers together, Jim draws their joined hands up to his mouth and presses a careful row of kisses along Ben’s knuckles. Ben encircles his arm tighter around Jim’s shoulders and nuzzles a kiss into his damp hair.

The late morning sounds of the neighbourhood float in through the open window. Birdsong mixes with traffic mixes with the patter of shoes on the pavement outside. The light citrus scent of the bathwater mingles delicately with the scent of the freshly cut grass in the park. Jim swirls his free hand through the water, encouraging the lemon-orange scent of the water to fill the room. 

“We should get out soon,” Jim holds Ben’s hand up for examination, “your fingers have gone all pruney.”

Ben growls and buries his face into Jim’s hair. “Not yet. A few more minutes.”

Jim smiles to himself, releasing Ben’s hand. He settles back more firmly against Ben’s chest.

“The water’s getting cold, and we can’t fill up the tub anymore, it’s almost already overflowing.”

“Oh, alright then.” Ben says with a good-natured sigh, rubbing his cheek against Jim’s soft hair and releasing him.

Jim leans forward to pull the plug from the drain, arching with pleasure when Ben’s hands caress down his slick back to settle on his hips. Ben rubs his thumbs in light circles on Jim’s hips, waiting for some of the water to drain from the tub.

When the water is low enough that they can get out of the bath without flooding the tiled floor, they carefully stand, helping each other up and over the high, curved side of the enamelled tub. Jim steps lightly across the cool tiled floor and retrieves two fluffy, white towels from the marble countertop of the sink. He hands one to Ben, then uses his to give his hair a rough dry.

Jim drags the towel from his head and wraps it around his narrow hips, slicking his hair back out of his eyes. He looks for Ben only to have his vision darken suddenly as Ben throws his own towel over Jim’s head and dashes from the room. His warm laugh lures Jim into the main room of the suite. Jim tosses the spare towel onto the counter, letting his own fall to the floor as he hastens to follow Ben back to bed.

He pads across the room, following eagerly in Ben’s wake. He slips into bed directly into Ben’s arms, skin warm, soft, and fragrant from the bath. He feathers tender kisses across Ben’s cheeks and caresses the back of his hand down Ben’s face, brushing his thumb back and forth over Ben’s lips, causing them to twitch into a smile. He twirls a lock of Ben’s damp hair around his slim fingers as Ben melts into the pillow under his soft ministrations.

“It’s not fair,” he muses, brushing Ben’s heavy hair off his forehead and tucking it behind his ear, “beautiful face, smart, kind, and all topped off with this gorgeous hair.”

Ben slides his hand down Jim’s back, squeezing his backside affectionately, and then sweeps his hand down Jim’s leg to pull it up and over his hip.

“You’re one to talk, Jim.” He snuggles Jim closer so that they are pressed as tightly together as they could be, not a sliver of space between them. “Legs for days, gentle soul, best musician in County Wexford, and so loving.” He peppers Jim’s face with delicate kisses in between compliments. “So loving, I’m quite undone by you.”

“Oh, Ben. Come here.”

Jim wriggles around so that he ends up on his back with Ben nestled between his legs. He entwines his legs tightly around Ben’s waist and he buries his hands in Ben’s hair. Ben tucks his hands under Jim’s shoulders to hold him close, the slight pressure between his shoulder blades causes Jim to arch up into a delicious stretch as he curves up to meet Ben’s hungry mouth.

Ben rolls his hips, rocking down into the cradle of Jim’s hips, who in turn, meets Ben’s cautious thrusts. He tugs a bit too sharply on Ben’s hair and is rewarded with a breathy gasp from Ben and a gentle nip at his shoulder. Jim cries out softly, enjoying the brief press of Ben’s teeth against his sensitive skin. Ben grins against the hollow of his neck.

“Do you think anyone would miss us if we skipped the wedding?”

Jim whines quietly, locking his legs tightly around Ben’s hips as Ben gazes fondly at him. He sits up on his elbows and laughs at Ben’s overly thoughtful expression, as if he were actually contemplating missing his cousin’s wedding.

“I think one or two people might notice if you weren’t there.” He lets his legs fall from Ben’s hips and he struggles into a sitting position. He cups Ben’s chin in his hand, squeezing lightly. “But after today, all our time is finally our own. We can stay in bed all day if we like.”

Ben captures Jim’s wrist and guides his hand up to cup his cheek. He slips his larger hand over Jim’s, holding his hand to his face.

“I may hold you to that.” He smiles. “But we’ll make time to see all the sights you wanted - the natural history museum, the galleries. And Coney Island, if you really want.”

Jim shrugs. “We only have a week left, we’ll see how it goes.” He slides his hand from beneath Ben’s and rakes his fingers through Ben’s hair. “Let me fix your hair for the ceremony. You look thoroughly dishevelled and we can’t have that, can we?”

“Maybe I want to look dishevelled.”

He leers suggestively at Jim, who snorts. Ben drops his head to his chest and laughs, but he shuffled back to give Jim room to leave the bed nonetheless. Jim crosses the room in a few quick strides to collect Ben’s brown leather dopp kit from the bathroom.

Ben settles, cross-legged, on the rumpled bed, his broad back to Jim. Rummaging around in the rectangular case, Jim finally extracts a comb, hair ties, pins, and Ben’s expensive bottle of hair oil. He settles himself on the bed behind Ben. He carefully works out any tangles left behind from their earlier playfulness. He then runs the comb through Ben’s heavy locks, mindful to not catch the teeth of the comb on his ears. Soon, Ben’s hair is shining and curling back from his forehead in glossy waves. Jim pours a few drops of the hair oil into his hand and rubbed his hands together to spread the oil around. He lifts his hands to his face and inhales the comforting bergamot scent. Ben slants a glance over his shoulder and smiles, he reaches back and pets a soothing hand over Jim’s knee. Jim leans forward to plant a kiss to the nape of Ben’s neck then he sets about working the thin sheen of oil through Ben’s hair. Once the hair is shiny and smooth, he expertly gathers and twists it up into a tidy knot at the crown of Ben’s head. He secures it in place with a hair tie and adds a few pins for good measure.

Jim slips his arms around Ben’s chest and hooks his chin over his shoulder.

“You’re done.”

Ben gathers his hand and lifts it to his mouth for a kiss. He turns so he can capture Jim’s lips next, murmuring his thanks against Jim’s mouth. Jim sighs into the kiss, but all too soon, Ben is pulling away. He stands, turning to help Jim up. Ben’s hair gleams in the morning light, curling away from his face in a soft wave back to the knot that Jim so carefully gathered.

“Alright, I’ll go get my suit and bring it over here, then we can maybe grab a quick drink at the bar, and then go?”

“Let’s just meet in the bar,” Jim counters, “I bought a new suit just for today, I don’t want to spoil the surprise.”

Ben halts in the middle of pulling on yesterday’s clothes, mouth agape.

“A surprise suit! Let me see it!”

“Not yet!” Jim playfully shoves at Ben’s shoulder to get him moving but he barely has any impact on Ben, he was so wonderfully broad and solid. “I’ll meet you in the bar in thirty minutes.”

“That’s smart, actually,” Ben loops an arm around Jim’s waist as they head to the door of the suite, “less temptation if we’re already downstairs instead of a room with a bed.”

Jim’s face heats up in a hectic blush. “Good Lord! You’re insatiable.”

Ben darts in to steal a quick kiss. “When it comes to you, it’s never enough.” He then cracks the door open and peers cautiously down the long hallway. Seeing no one in sight he turns back to Jim. “See you downstairs.” Jim nods, holding the door open just enough for Ben to tiptoe out and away down the corridor.

Closing the door securely, Jim gathers up the items from the bed and goes the bathroom to arrange his own hair. Using a few drops of Ben’s hair oil, he slicks his hair back off his forehead. His auburn hair wasn’t as luxurious or glossy as Ben’s but it would have to do, he thinks with a shrug at his reflection. Maybe he’ll let it grow out again, as he had when they were in Italy.

He tidies away the travel kit then throws all the used towels into the hamper. Crossing back into the main room to the tall, ornate wardrobe on the wall opposite the bathroom, he opens the tall, narrow door to retrieve a black garment bag. He hooks it over the top of the door, smoothing out any creases in the fabric. Unzipping the bag, he runs his fingers down the lapel of his lovely new dark navy suit with waistcoat, and forest green tie. He leans over to peek through the heavy, silk drapes. The sun is bright and the day is shaping up to be warm. He looks back at his suit and smiles. Today is going to be a good day.

\----

Jim groans as he tries to turn his back to the blinding morning sun pouring through the window. He’s prevented from moving, however, by a heavy, immovable weight across his hips. Peeling his eyes open, Jim squints down to see Ben sprawled between his legs, fast asleep, hair tumbling out of his knot, snoring softly on his belly.

He lets his head thump heavily back onto the feather pillows and he presses the heels of his hand into eyes, attempting to scrub the remnants of the night before from them. He tucks one hand behind his head and lets the other wander down to tangle in Ben’s messy curls. He rakes his fingers through the dark locks, letting the strands slip through his fingers like water. He pulls remnants of flower petals from Ben’s curls, chuckling as he remembers that Finn’s niece, Maddie, insisted on sharing her flower crown with Ben. He twirls the lovingly adorned curls around his fingers as he thinks back to the night before.

Rey and Finn’s wedding had been one of the most raucous parties he had ever attended. The wedding ceremony itself had been sweet and staid; Rey looked radiant in her gown, and Finn glowed with joy. Ben wasn’t far off when he called it the wedding of the century. While much of Ben’s family was far-flung across America, Canada, and Ireland, there was a large extended circle of friends that were as close, if not closer, than family. Finn himself had a large, close-knit family and they had travelled from all over America, some as far away as California, to attend the wedding. Everyone Jim met had been friendly and overflowing with brash confidence. Drink after drink was pushed into his hands, he whirled through dance after dance with Rey, Leia, and countless other friends. Ben steered him around the hall, introducing him to absolutely everyone, an arm slung around his shoulders. The arm at his shoulder drifted to rest between his shoulder blades, then as the night wore on, slipped down to curl around his waist and then lower, and lower still. Finally, they had stumbled to a secluded stairwell to share urgent kisses before returning to the hall.

They were both tipsy by the time they left the reception in the small hours of the morning. Back at the hotel, clothes were shed messily, hurriedly, their fine suits lay crumpled on the floor. Sloppy, fervent kisses were pressed to any bit of bare skin that lips could reach. They didn’t get far, however. As soon as Jim fell back on the comfortable bed with Ben wedged between his legs, the adrenaline of the party drained away and they sank into an exhausted sleep.

Jim’s attention is brought back to the here and now by a sleepy rumbling from down the bed. Ben blinks sleepily and rolls onto his belly, wrapping his arms around Jim’s waist. He props his chin on Jim’s hip and smiles softly, blinking slowly in the honeyed morning light.

“Morning. Some party, wasn’t it?”

Jim grins at the ceiling, tangling his finger further in Ben’s tousled hair. “I’m not likely to forget it anytime soon.”

Ben leans up on his elbows, daubing delicate kisses across Jim’s belly, working his way up to Jim’s chest until he’s perched across his hips. He leans down for a kiss as Jim caresses his hands up Ben’s thighs. He draws Ben down so that they’re pressed tightly together. Ben buries his face in Jim’s neck and they huddle together quietly, for a moment.

“You look lovely this morning, Jim,” Ben sits up and gazes fondly down at Jim, brown eyes luminous in the morning light, “you should always look this rumpled and naked.”

“Hmm, perhaps.” Jim muses, brushing Ben’s hair off his face, smiling up at Ben as a cascade of flower petals sprinkle across his cheeks. He brushes the petals aside so that they scatter on the pillow around his head. “But it would make going to work difficult. Then what would we live on?”

“Kisses and sweet nothings, like everyone else.”

Ben looks entirely serious which causes Jim to burst out laughing. Ben giggles as he shuffles back off Jim’s hips. He slides off the bed turns, and kneels, sliding his hands under Jim’s body so he can hoist him up into his arms. Jim yelps and squirms slightly but Ben holds him firm.

“Ben, put me down!”

“Why on earth would I want to do something like that?”

Jim ceases his half-hearted struggle for freedom, which hadn’t fooled Ben for a moment, and loops his arms around Ben’s neck, licking sloppy kisses to whatever part of Ben he could reach. Ben practically purrs with delight, hugging Jim closer before carefully setting him down on his feet in the bathroom. Ben busies himself with drawing the bath as Jim gathers fresh towels, their shaving kits, and throwing wide the window to let the beautiful summer morning flood the room.

“What shall we do today? Now that the wedding is over, we have time to ourselves.”

“I was thinking the natural history museum,” Ben helps Jim climb into the deep tub, quickly filling with fragrant, warm water, “you’ll love it, and it’s across from Central Park.”

Ben slips into the water behind Jim, sighing happily as Jim immediately cuddles close. Jim swirls his fingers through the water to encourage the scents to float up on the clouds of steam wafting from the water.

“That sounds nice: bath, breakfast, museum, back to bed.”

Ben chuckles. “In that order exactly.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hardly a day had gone by in New York where Jim didn’t give thanks for his new, wide-brimmed straw hat. It had been sunny, sticky, and humid for the entire time he’d been here and today, the day after Rey and Finn’s wedding, is no exception.
> 
> \----
> 
> *sobs* this is the second to last chapter! Jim and Ben go sightseeing around New York finally!

Hardly a day had gone by in New York where Jim didn’t give thanks for his new, wide-brimmed straw hat. It had been sunny, sticky, and humid for the entire time he’d been here and today, the day after Rey and Finn’s wedding, is no exception. He pulls the hat from his head to fan himself a few times, trying in vain to coax a slight breeze to cool the sweat slicking across his forehead. Plunking the hat back on his damp head, he glances over at Ben.

“Good Lord, doesn’t it ever rain here?” he grouses, the heat of the day making him irritable. 

“Not in the summer, it doesn’t.” Ben slings his arm around Jim’s shoulders to squeeze affectionately.

Jim grumbles to himself and readjusts his hat to better shade his face. Ben looks completely at ease in the humidity, hair impeccable, not a strand out of place. The only sign that he finds the heat even slightly oppressive is the fact that he’s chosen to forgo his suit jacket today. He still looks impossibly handsome in his pale grey shirt and waistcoat, Jim notices. That he has neatly rolled up his shirt sleeves mollifies Jim somewhat.

“At least we’ll be at the museum soon.”

“Take heart, Jim, by this time next week we’ll be on our way home.” Ben’s evident pleasure at the thought of home lights up his face. His eyes take on a faraway glint, obviously thinking of the delights of their cozy home.

“Oh, I hope it rains every day for the first two weeks we’re home.” Jim sighs wistfully, he never thought he’d miss the cool, verdant dampness of Ireland. Ben chuckles at his sigh of longing.

“We’ll go to Curracloe every day, even in the rain.” He slips his hand into the crook of Jim’s elbow, his fingertips tickling the bare skin of Jim’s exposed forearm. “Come on, the subway is only a couple blocks away. The sooner we get there, the sooner we can be inside.”

They quicken their steps, as best they can in the heat, and soon they arrive at 14 Street station. Descending the stairs into the stifling gloom of the station, they deposit their tokens in the box and push through the turnstile, Jim following closely on Ben’s heels. They step onto the platform to wait for the train with all the other sun-wilted people. A blast of warm, fetid air whistling out of the tunnel announces the approach of the train. It rumbles into the station, brakes squealing as it slows to a stop. The C train is busy and crowded at this time of day so Ben elbows his way into the carriage, Jim taking advantage of the wide swath he cuts through the crowd, follows in his wake. Once on the train, Jim finds himself pressing right up against Ben’s side. He blushes at Ben’s impish smile and saucy wink, shivering as Ben’s hand skates up the damp fabric of his shirt to grip the handrail above them.

The train departs finally, whisking them away uptown. They rock together with the swaying motion of the train, not a sliver of space between them. Jim exhales a shuddery breath as the train curves around a corner, the momentum pressing his body closer to Ben’s. He thrills when Ben’s hand comes up to settle on his waist, holding him steady as the train clatters into the next station and wheezes to a stop. He wants nothing more in this moment than, despite the heat, to step into the familiar, comforting circle of Ben’s arms and just enjoy being held by Ben. They fit together so perfectly.

Six stops later they are dashing up the stairs and bursting out into the warm sunshine once again. They follow the crush of tourists through the tree-lined park towards the grand steps of the museum.

Upon entering the magnificent rotunda of the museum, Jim is immediately enchanted. The sandy cream hues of the stone make the space feel light and bright, while the stately Corinthian columns draw his eye up and away to the delicately arched ceiling. Tall windows at each end of the room allow the afternoon sun to flood the space. Ben leaves him marvelling over the displays of articulated dinosaur skeletons while he goes to purchase their admission tickets. The impressive dinosaurs chase each other down the length of the room, their long whip-like tails held high and proud.

Jim is reading through the scientific information provided on the sign in front of the display when Ben returns, tickets and floor plan in hand. He sidles up to Jim and nudges him affectionately.

“Ready to go?”

“Always.” Jim takes the glossy map from Ben’s hand and unfolds it. “Did you come here often when you were small?”

Ben nods as he leads Jim up the stairs and into the hall displaying North American animals.

“I used to come here at least once a year on school excursions.” He stops them in front of a display showing a herd of bison, the environment so lovingly recreated that they look as if they’ve stepped right off the plains and into the museum. “The field trips were a lot of fun when I was a kid, it was exciting to take the subway with my class. Then, when I was older it was fun mostly because it was a day off school.” He smiles at Jim. “I’d love to be able to take my students to the archaeology museum in Dublin, but it might be a bit too far for a day trip for the little ones.”

“Maybe so, but it’s worth a discussion with the headmaster at least,” Jim stops their progress to examine a display of desert animals, “you may be able to find a way to go.”

“I’ll speak to him when we get back, perhaps.” Ben slips his hand into the crook of Jim’s elbow and holds him close, sighing. “I can’t wait to be home, I miss our bed and our beach.”

“Our beach?” Jim inquires as he leads Ben through a high arched doorway flanked by more columns into the next hall showing North American forests.

“Yeah, Curracloe,” Ben murmurs into his ear, “it’s ours.”

Jim chuckles quietly so as not to disturb the ethereal quiet of the leafy, forested room around them. “I suppose it is.”

They wend their way around the gallery. The high ceiling is decorated like the canopy of a forest, the light is filtered softly through the latticework of branches; tinny, pre-recorded birdsong is piped around the gallery from cleverly hidden speakers. Ben eventually steers them toward the next flight of stairs that will take them to the halls of African and Asian mammals, as well as cultures and archaeology from other parts of the world.

“Wait until you see this next room, Jim, it’s amazing.”

Ben hurries them up the stairs into a large dimly lit hall where they are confronted with an astonishing display of a herd of African elephants. Jim can’t help but gasp.

“ _Oh_. This is incredible.”

“Isn’t it?” Ben smiles at him while Jim marvels up at the beautiful display, every element perfectly rendered. “This was always my favourite part, well this and the dinosaur hall.”

“Yes, I can see why.” Jim whispers back.

He slowly circles the diorama, trying to take it all in with wide eyes. Ben follows, looking pleased that Jim is so enthralled. This hall is obviously popular; it’s filled with tourists and groups of children partaking in summer school classes. Many of the kids are sitting along the edges of the room laboriously recreating the elephants in their notebooks while their instructor looks on. He rounds the corner of the plinth to start up the other side, passing a tour group led by a museum docent explaining the history of the hall and the techniques pioneered by the artist who had created the amazing dioramas in the museum. 

When Jim shows no signs of being ready to move on from the elephants, Ben whispers that he’s going to go look at the displays on the second floor of the hall. Jim casts a glance to the open upper floors where he can see the brightly lit cases and people milling around at the railing, looking down at the elephants. He nods, glad that Ben won’t be too far away.

On his own now, he returns to the front of the display, his back to the staircase, so he can examine the lead animal from the front. He folds the map, slipping it into his pocket. He gazes up at the dark eyes of the first elephant and imagines a tiny Ben Organa coming into this room and seeing these animals for the first time. He smiles to himself, picturing young Ben’s wild curls, happy smile, and boundless enthusiasm. He must have been such a handful for his teachers, Jim laughs quietly to himself. That was probably part of the reason Ben excels at teaching now, he understands his students so well.

Jim fans himself with the brim of his hat before tucking it back beneath his arm. The room is warm, despite the dim lighting. He looks up to the second floor where he can see Ben’s dark head bent in an examination of one of the displays. He’s about to go find the staircase that would bring him to the second floor when the clicking of a pair of heels directly behind him draws his attention. 

“Jim? Jim Farrell?”

A voice he thought he’d never hear again suddenly intrudes into his pleasant daydreams. His heart plummets from his chest and creeping, clammy, altogether unpleasant flush blooms across his cheeks. He swallows heavily, trying to calm the sudden, nauseated roll of his stomach. Turning slowly to face the person who had addressed him, he attempts to school his features into a pleasant, neutral smile. Coming face to face with Eilis Lacey, after all this time, is not something he had honestly expected to happen. She’s still beautiful, in her yellow shirtwaist dress, traces of a nervous smile lingering around her mouth.

Jim fidgets with his hat and smiles wanly. Slipping his hand into his pocket, his fingertips brush up against the weathered, rounded edges of Ben’s pocket watch. His hand closes around it, the cool metal warming in his palm, and suddenly, everything falls away. He has nothing to feel embarrassed or ashamed about. He had always been honest with Eilis, had earnestly enjoyed her company, and while it hurt him immensely when she left, he had always respected her decision. He squeezes the pocketwatch tight and then lets it drop back into the depths of his pocket, feeling lighter. How could he be upset with Eilis? Her leaving had wrought the biggest, most influential change in his life. 

“Eilis, hello,” he holds out his hand for her to take, “you look well.”

“Thank you, Jim.” she grasps his hand and then leans in to wrap her arms around him in a tight hug. “It’s wonderful to see you.”

He stiffly submits to the embrace for a second, patting her gingerly on the shoulder once, then gently disentangling himself from her. He glances quickly up at the second floor but there was no sign of Ben. He desperately hopes Ben hasn’t gone too far, he’s not anxious to prolong this meeting with Eilis.

“Jim, I can’t believe it, what are you doing here?

“I’m here for a wedding, but I’ll be going home in a few days.” Jim glances surreptitiously behind Eilis, looking for Ben.

“How lovely. Was it a family wedding? How are you enjoying New York?”

He thinks of the warm and welcoming reception he’s received upon meeting Ben’s friends and family. Rey’s whispered “welcome to the family” echoes gently in his head causing him to smile down at Eilis.

“Yes, it was a family wedding and it was beautiful, I’ve never had so much fun.”

She pats his upper arm warmly. “I’m glad. And how’s Enniscorthy, your parents, the bar?”

She trails off as something behind him catches her attention. Glancing over his shoulder he’s relieved to see Ben barreling toward them, a smile on his face. As he draws closer, however, Jim could see that although Ben was smiling, it didn't reach his eyes.

Ben hurtles to a stop beside Jim, hovering protectively at his elbow. Jim leans back minutely to feel the warmth of Ben’s body against his back. Ben curls his hand around Jim’s elbow and gives a supportive squeeze.

“Jim, there you are,” he smiles at him, eyes soft now, all traces of their earlier hardness gone, “are you ready to go?”

He nods and turns back to Eilis. She’s watching their interactions with wide eyes, then a pleased, knowing smile slowly blooms across her face.

“Eilis, this is Benjamin Organa. Ben, this is Eilis.”

“Lovely to meet you.”

She stretches out her small hand for him. Ben regards her carefully before leaning around Jim to grasp her hand. She shakes his hand warmly, giving him a shy, unsure smile. Ben watches her thoughtfully, while also pressing himself against Jim’s back. She turns back to Jim.

“Jim, could I have a moment, then you can get back to your holiday.”

Jim looks over at Ben, who’s watching him closely. Ben’s dark eyes roam over his face, searching for any sign of discomfort. He raises his eyebrow and Jim nods, signaling that he’s alright with a few minutes spent alone with Eilis. With a gentle brush of his fingers down Jim’s back and a slightly frosty glance at Eilis, Ben moves away to give them some privacy. He leans casually against one of the display cases along the wall but Jim can tell there’s absolutely nothing carefree about his posture. Every line of Ben’s body is electric; spiky tension radiating from him. He’s clearly reluctant to go too far and obviously listening closely, not trying to overhear, but merely to make sure Jim is safe from potential heartbreak.

Once Ben has settled against the wall, Jim turns his attention back to Eilis, only to see that she had caught the little affectionate, reassuring gestures between them. She’s smiling broadly.

“You look happier than I’ve ever seen you, Jim, I’m so glad.”

Jim thinks back to earlier in the morning, how sweetly Ben had kissed him, just one of a thousand tender moments. He brushes his thumb along his bottom lip, remembering all the luxurious, drowsy kisses they’ve exchanged, watching Ben out of the corner of his eye. With some effort, he drags his attention away from Ben and back to the conversation.

“Is it that obvious?” He laughs quietly, mostly to himself. “I am happy, though.”

“You deserve it, Jim, you deserve every happiness in the world.” Eilis pauses then, looking uncertain she bites her lip and glances down at her hands. She twists her copy of the museum map between her fingers and looks up at him. “Jim, I’m so sorry about the way things turned out between us.”

“Eilis--”

“I was in a bad place, what with Rose passing away so suddenly,” her voice wobbles over her sister’s name and her eyes reddening, “but that’s no excuse for leading you on, and then leaving without a word.”

“Eilis--” he tries again.

“So, I’m sorry, Jim, I’m sorry and I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness but I hope someday you won’t hate me for this.”

“Eilis, you’re forgiven.” He digs his handkerchief out of his pocket and offers it to her. She accepts it and dabs carefully at the corners of her teary eyes. “Of course I was hurt when you up and left like that but-” he pauses, thinking of those terrible weeks- “but we probably wouldn’t have been happy, in the end. We were meant to take different paths in life.”

“Thank you, Jim.” She looks relieved and offers him a weak smile as she tries to hand back the handkerchief. He motions for her to keep it and she slips it into her handbag. “You were always such a gentleman, I’m so glad I had this chance to apologize.”

Jim nods and steps back a pace, anxious to take his leave now that this chapter of his life is well and truly closed. He spies a small dark-haired woman crossing the hall toward he and Eilis, obviously it was a friend of hers. Ben materializes at his side instantly, pressed shoulder to shoulder with him once again. The dark-haired woman joins their group and looks at Eilis expectantly.

“Eilis, there you are!” She exclaims, dark brows knitting in a worried frown. “Are you ready to go? I can’t miss this class tonight so I need to get going.”

“Of course, Sheila, we should go,” she turns back to Jim and Ben, “Jim, it was lovely to see you again, thank you for everything. Benjamin, it was a pleasure to meet you.”

“Yeah, likewise,” Ben murmurs quietly, eyes on Jim.

Anxious to leave the conversation, Jim bids them farewell and allows Ben to steer him away. Feeling lighter than he anticipated after a tense interaction, Jim pulls the crumpled map from his trouser pocket and consults it for their next destination.

“Shall we see more, or should we go back to the hotel instead? Or the park?” When no response is forthcoming, Jim glances up from his map. Ben is casting a sharp look over his shoulder so Jim turns to glance behind to see what or whom Ben is glaring. Eilis is still standing by the diorama, talking with her friend, but curiously watching them go, a small smile on her face.

“Ben, are you alright?”

Ben nods tightly and angles them down a narrow corridor leading away from the next gallery. The hallway is dark, most of the bulbs burned out and not replaced in the lights overhead. The curatorial and staff offices on either side of them were dark. He continues around the corner into another small hallway, lined with foggy glass cases holding dusty taxidermy birds, their brilliant plumage dulled with age. Ben suddenly jolts to a stop and whirls on Jim, gathering him up in a tight embrace.

“Jim,” he mumbles into Jim’s hair, shaken, “are _you_ alright? I can’t believe we just ran into her, what are the odds.”

Jim sighs and melts into Ben’s arms, burying his face in the hollow of Ben’s neck, relieved that Ben is with him. He inhales a deep, bracing breath of Ben’s scent, the bergamot and cloves scent never fails to soothe him.

“I’m okay, better than, in fact.” He presses a kiss to the humid space beneath Ben’s jaw.

“Good, good.” Ben sighs in relief and walks them back two steps so that he can press Jim against the wall and lean into him, as if to shield him from the world around them. “You’re marvellous, wonderful, amazing, you know. If I was in your place, I’m not sure I would have been so forgiving.”

Burrowing further into the shelter of Ben’s body, Jim smiles against his neck.

“If you had asked me last year, I might not have been so easy about it.”

“What changed?”

Jim slides his hand into his trouser pocket and fishes out the pocketwatch. Slipping the watch into Ben’s hand, he leans back to gaze shyly up into Ben’s worried face.

“I just realized she only had as much power over me as I let her,” he exhales lightly, “and besides, things turned out for the best, wouldn’t you say?”

Ben grins down at the pocketwatch, brushing his thumb intently over the etchings on the cover.

“Yes, I think they did. All of us are right where we should be.”

He slips the watch back into Jim’s pocket and reaches up to cup his chin with gentle fingers, drawing his face up for a kiss. Jim sighs against Ben’s mouth, parting his lips enough to allow Ben to deepen the kiss.

“You’re really okay? You’ll tell me if you’re not, right?”

Jim wraps his arms in a lazy circle around Ben’s shoulders, luxuriating in Ben’s comforting presence.

“I promise, Ben. I’ll tell you if anything is amiss.”

Voices echo down the corridor as a tour group passes by the entrance to their hallway. Ben leans back but before he can move too far away, Jim tangles his fingers in Ben’s soft hair so as to keep him close.

“What should we do now that we’ve laid that ghost to rest? Look at the rest of the galleries, or head back to the hotel?”

Ben leans his forehead against Jim’s and closes his eyes, smiling.

“I think I’d like to go back to the hotel.” He leans back a fraction so that Jim can see that the usual playful glint has returned to his dark eyes. “Take me to bed, and then in four days time, take me home.”

“I’d like nothing better, Ben.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After all the fun and excitement of New York - new friends made, old ghosts laid to rest - Jim and Ben are finally ready to return to Eniscorthy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This the end! I'm really sad that this story is over, it was so much fun to write. A huge thanks to Milara, Thecopperriver, and Kyluxtrashpit for their amazing editing skills! And to Tallrezi, who requested this story. Jim and Ben will return in future installments of the series, hopefully by Christmas.

“Oh, Benny,” Rey exclaims loudly, uncaring who in the reception hall might overhear, “I can’t believe it’s already time for you to leave.” She pulls him into a tight embrace, wrapping her arms snug around his neck. “And you, Jim,” she releases Ben and went to Jim, also ensnaring him in a firm embrace, “thank you for coming, we’ll miss you so much.”

“Thank you, Rey.” Jim squeezes her tightly then holds her by the shoulders to catch her eye. “You’ll come to Enniscorthy soon, won’t you? Finn?”

“Sure thing, Jim.” Finn loops his arm around Rey’s waist. She sags against him, sniffling slightly, “We promised Padme we’d come to visit her in Dublin so we’ll come to Ireland first, before heading to Italy. Enniscorthy is only a short drive from Dublin, isn’t it?”

“It’s an easy drive down the coast.” Jim nods in affirmation. He holds out his hand and Finn shakes it warmly, one arm still slung around Rey’s shoulders. “It was a great pleasure to meet you, send word when you’re in Dublin.”

“Will do.” Finn smiles. “Benny,” he turns to Ben and offers his hand, “don’t be a stranger.”

“I’ll try. See you soon,” he says, voice wobbling with emotion.

He grunts out a quiet _oompf_ as both Rey and Finn lunge forward to wrap him in a joint embrace. He holds them tightly, eyes shut. Jim lays a gentle hand on his back, silently offering his support. Ben had done an incredible thing by moving his life to Enniscorthy, Jim can only imagine how hard it is for him to say goodbye to his childhood friends again.

The overhead speaker crackles to life breaking up the emotional farewell. A bored voice announces that all passengers should now be proceeding through to the dock. The noise of the reception hall rises as people say their final adieus and sweep up family members for last kisses, embraces, and handshakes. Ben sighs and draws back from Finn and Rey, blinking rapidly to clear the tears shining in his eyes. Jim slides his hand up Ben’s back to his shoulder, squeezing in reassurance.

“We’d better go.” Ben gathers up his and Jim’s steamer trunks and smiles bravely. “See you soon.”

“Benny. Jim.” Rey sniffs and smiles a watery smile. Finn holds her close.

Jim allows Ben to lead the way, following him toward the wide, double doors that will take them to the covered dock and from there onto the ship. As they pass through the doors, they turn to wave a final goodbye to Rey and Finn, who stand, hand in hand, as the tide of people flow around them. They wave goodbye and then they’re enveloped in the sea of passengers, the doors swinging shut, obscuring them from Ben and Jim’s view.

Ben lets his shoulders slump as they turn to head toward the boat. Jim takes his trunk from Ben, letting their fingers brush together. Ben leans into Jim’s shoulder.

“That was harder than I expected.”

“Leave takings are always difficult,” Jim agrees, “but we’ll see them again. They’ll be in Ireland in a few months time.”

“You’re right, of course.” They walk lock-step together, toward the enormous ocean liner that would take them home, shoulders and fingertips brushing lightly together.

“And besides,” Jim continues as he trails Ben up the uneven gangway and down the corridor to the first class deck, “you can always visit again next year.”

They stop at the door to Jim’s cabin. He unlocks the glossy wooden door and ushers Ben inside. Ben sweeps him up in a tight embrace as soon as the door is locked and the trunks safely stowed away. Burying his face in Jim’s hair, Ben nuzzles his way down to Jim’s lips, stealing a kiss.

“Right again,” he smiles against Jim’s mouth, “I can visit again, but only if you’re with me.”

Jim huffs a pleased laugh as Ben presses kisses all over his cheeks and forehead. “Ben, you must know by now that anywhere you go, I’ll go too.”

“I know, Jim.” Ben whispers as he walks them back towards the bedroom. “How I got so lucky to find you, I’ll never know.”

Jim let out a small groan as the backs of his knees hit the bed frame. He collapses down onto the bed, pulling Ben with him.

“Meant to be, I suppose.”

He caresses his fingertips down Ben’s face, cupping his chin to draw him down for a kiss. Ben comes gladly, allowing Jim to kiss away the lingering sadness still haunting his eyes. Clothes are swiftly removed, dropped carelessly to the floor, fingers tangle in hair, and legs wrap tightly around hips.

“Meant to be.” Ben sighs, and then sighs again.

\----

A light rain is falling as Jim and Ben disembark the train at the Templeshannon station. The misty weather is a welcome change from the sticky humidity of New York. Jim tilts his face up to the slate gray sky and lets the gentle rain dampen his hair and slick down his face. The castle is just visible through the mist across the river; the four turrets peeking in and out of view as the mist rolls by on the warm wind. Everything is so green here, so full of life. And there is water everywhere. The River Slaney is running swiftly alongside the road, the rain falls through the trees and patters to the pavement below causing the pleasant scent of petrichor to permeate the air around them. Behind Jim, the rain drains off the roof of the train station, funnels into the eaves and spills out onto the road. He’s so happy to be home.

Ben wrestles their steamer trunks from the luggage compartment of the train and onto a cart. He comes to stand at Jim’s side, joining him in quiet contemplation of the river, trees and distant castle. He looks over at Jim, raindrops catching on his long eyelashes and in his hair.

“It’s nice to be home,” he sighs happily, sweeping the rain from his face, “right where we’re meant to be.”

“Anywhere you are is where I’m meant to be.”

Ben’s smile dazzles as he leans closer to Jim, the heat from his body rising off him like a fog.

“Let’s go home, it’s been too long.”

Jim can’t contain the giddy burst of laughter that bubbles from within. His eyes crinkle with mirth as he follows Ben into the waiting cab.

“Rafter Street, please, quick as you can.”

Jim slips his hand into Ben’s as the cab rumbles across the bridge and into town. Ben tightens his grip and smiles out the window as the town rolls past. Jim looks down at their joined hands, feeling lighter than ever before. 

It’s so good to be home.


End file.
